


Kryptonite

by Mareepysheepy



Category: South Park
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Real or pretend relationship?, Why communication is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareepysheepy/pseuds/Mareepysheepy
Summary: Craig stands on the cusp of sixth grade, facing the farce that is elementary school prom unsure of the very simple, but very important answer to the following question:So, like, are he and Tweek actually dating or..?





	Kryptonite

  
—  
Regret isn’t a feeling that Craig is used to. Yeah, he regrets the time he let himself get swindled out of his birthday money. Maybe regrets throwing his lot in with Cartman more than he’d care to admit too. But generally, Craig is very much a live in the moment and consequences be damned sort of boy. He has no time for bothersome things like regret. And if he does fuck up, generally he fixes it (sometimes slowly, but he gets there).

Right now though, Craig regrets. It’s an odd, unpleasant feeling. His stomach is a nest of butterflies, fluttering like it does before a case of explosive diarrhoea. He swallows, but his throat is dry and the sensation is as nasty as the taste.

He’s not really paying attention to the screen, staring ahead with a pensive expression as thoughts weigh down on him. He feels like Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.

“Craig?” An apprehensive voice breaks through the grey haze of worry.

Craig looks up, startled, eyes sliding to his right a moment later. Tweek stares back, eyes slanted with concern.

“Is everything… okay?” Tweek asks nervously when Craig doesn’t answer. “You’re really… quiet today.”

Craig takes a moment, pulling in a quiet breath. “Yeah,” he replies after a moment. “Tired, I guess,” he lies.

Tweek looks unsure, never-distant anxiety creasing his brow. He pulls at the hem of his shirt in a gesture that Craig recognises well. “Oh,” is all he says. A soft sound, little more than a breath. “I can leave if you want?”

Something about the tone makes Craig respond more quickly than before. “No!” He says. “No… I don’t want that. I just… sorry I’m not being the best company. Stay as long as you’d like.”

Tweek smiles at that, letting out a little peel of laughter. “Oh man, really? Forever then?” He asks. Craig’s heart does an annoying flippity-flop. “Your parents are way better than mine!”

Craig rolls his eyes. “You only think that because they like you more than their own kids. My mom especially.”

Tweek laughs again and unpauses the game. “They don’t.”

“Have you met me?” Craig asks dryly, unable to help his slight smile. “Have you met _Trish_?”

“Stop bitching,” Tweek grins. “Your family is the best.”

Craig hums and picks up his coke. He’s still worrying to himself and unfortunately, these exchanges with Tweek make things harder.

  
—

The thing that’s bothering Craig is pretty simple.

It dogs him the moment he waves goodbye to Tweek after dinner. It snaps at his heels with more and more persistence as he finishes the homework that he doesn’t need to copy off Token, and changes into his pyjamas.

It’s unbearable once his dad has come in to wish him goodnight and all that’s left is for him to stare at the ceiling.

It’s the Elementary school prom. That’s what’s bothering him. A stupid, nonsensical attempt to replicate actual, proper proms that signify actual coming of age and completion of education. But of course, this was South Park so they had to be grandiose, didn’t they? Congratu-fucking-lations. You passed fifth grade. You are a functioning kid completing a basic, mandatory stage of education. Let’s throw a stupid party.

The party part doesn’t bother Craig that much. He’s not really too bothered about parties, but he tends to have fun once he’s there. So long as nothing apocalyptic happens. He likes hanging out and eating junk so it’s not that. It’s the significance that bothers him.

Craig wants to ask Tweek to go with him. That, above all else, is what’s bothering him.

It should be simple. Go along in their stupid, little tuxedos, cause some swooning over how wonderfully progressive the school is for having their first gay prom-going couple, awkward sway-dancing, go home full of memories, done.

Except -and here’s the kick in the nuts- Craig isn’t actually sure that Tweek will say yes.

Part of himself thinks that he’s being stupid and that Tweek will obviously say yes. They’re boyfriends, so why wouldn’t he?

Except… except all of this is making Craig confront something that he doesn’t want to: he’s not actually sure that they _are_ boyfriends.

They act like boyfriends do. They say that they’re dating. Craig straight up tells people that Tweek is his boyfriend. Tweek leans into his shoulder and tells him that he’s grateful for Craig being in his life. He’s even started pressing sneaky, little kisses to Craig’s cheek when he’s happy, soft as a boop from a guinea pig. It should be clear cut.

Except… it isn’t at all.

There’s two major issues at play for Craig: the first is that Tweek is -surprisingly- a very talented actor. He got so into the role of fake-breaking up that he would’ve done the Academy Awards proud. Playing a role seems to help Tweek channel his jittery energy into something more productive. Craig noticed it when they played Superheroes, or Cowboys, or Astronauts. He doesn’t fully get why (he’s only a kid), but pretending to be something else allows Tweek to tap into a well of confidence that he otherwise struggles to access.

Issue number two is Craig’s own fault entirely. On that fateful day when Craig held his hand out to Tweek outside Whole Foods, making an enormous internal decision to try accepting ‘gay’ into his identity. To explore what could be with Tweek if he gave it a chance but… well… he’s not exactly sure that’s what came across.

In offering his hand to Tweek he’d been saying _hey, Tweek. I’ve thought this through and struggled with it, but then my dad talked to me and said it was okay. So I really, really reflected on it and I figured that it isn’t such a bad thing. I think you’re a cool guy and I’m sort of asking myself why not, you know? Why not give this a chance and see what happens? Maybe I’m not straight at all, or maybe I’m like Cartman and half-bisexual. It’s all pretty confusing as a concept, but everyone seems to think we work so maybe they’re right? They can’t all be crazy can they? So maybe we could work. I’d like to try, I guess. Would you be my boyfriend and see how it goes?_

Except communication is like kryptonite to Craig. He didn’t say anything like that, and, as of right now, still hasn’t.

Instead, he’s spent twenty months with Tweek on the basis of an offered hand, and now he’s not sure if Tweek got what he silently meant. Or if he got something more like _let’s cheer everyone up and pretend to be gay._

Craig sincerely hopes it’s the former. He and Tweek have grown so close over the last year and a half. Hanging out felt natural from the start. They’d been friends ever since that stupid fight, although usually in a group environment. One on one, Tweek is even more fun to be around. He’s smarter than most give him credit for, and really good at FPS games. Sometimes he freaks out unnecessarily, but Craig’s sort of got used to that over time, transitioning from finding it weird and annoying to genuinely wanting to make him feel better. He doesn’t even mind that sometimes it’s simply for acknowledgement: something he doesn’t get much of off his parents.

They don’t feel like friends putting on an act, at least not to Craig. He likes hanging out with Clyde, Token and Jimmy, but he doesn’t want to take care of them the way he does Tweek. He doesn’t find himself missing them if they have a fight and don’t text for a couple of days. He doesn’t feel like the sun has burst through clouds when the other guys give him relaxed, carefree smiles.

But the Elementary School prom looms and it feels like the end of everything. A fragile bubble drifts towards a savage nail. It shouldn’t be bothering him this much, but right now he wishes that they’d sat down and talked about what they are. Even just once. Because he can’t shift the feeling of dread that the prom will be the end of everything. That in asking Tweek to go with him it’ll be the last time that they act like boyfriends together. Or worse still, Tweek will laugh at him and say no, or ask him what the point in pretending is when they’re about to head off into middle school and start a whole new chapter of life.

Elementary school is for little kids, after all. Middle school is where you really start to grow up. How many people maintain a relationship from one to the other? Especially if one of you is pretending. There’ll be new kids. New _girls_. Few will care that they were once a celebrity couple.

The thought makes Craig’s stomach churn uncomfortably. For the eighth night in a row, sleep doesn’t come easily.

—

“Oh my God,” Clyde says the next day at lunch, animatedly waving his chicken leg around. “I can’t believe that Bebe is going to miss the prom because she’s washing her hair!”

“Cl-cl-Clyde...” Jimmy starts.

“Don’t, man,” Token interrupts, shaking his head. “Let him stay innocent.”

“Huh?” Clyde responds, blinking slowly, scowling in confusion.

Token and Tweek laugh as Jimmy rolls his eyes.

“I bet Nichole looks really pretty in her dress,” Tweek smiles over at Token once their laughter has subsided.

Token grins, although he looks bashful. “Yeah, man. I’ve not seen it yet, but she’s gonna kill it in whatever she wears.”

“St-st- cease your bragging,” Jimmy breaks in. “Not all of us are so blessed with bl-bli-blissful commitment.” He pauses to look sympathetically over at Clyde. “Muh-my date is washing her hair too.”

“Bummer,” Clyde grouches. “You’d think girls would _want_ to go.”

“Why don’t you ask Wendy?” Tweek asks both Jimmy and Clyde, probably trying to be fair.

“She broke up with Stan again?” Token asks, bemused. They all pause, looking over to a table on the other side of the room where Stan sits, a picture of miserable dejection as Kyle and Cartman argue over him, and Butters and Kenny chat away nonchalantly.

“Yeah, man,” Tweek replies. “Apparently it’s bad this time. Something to do with middle school.”

“I h-heard she was boycotting the prom,” Jimmy adds.

“I wonder who Stan will go with?” Tweek wonders aloud.

“Probably Kyle,” Token snorts. The rest of the boys laugh at that.

“No way, that’d be lame!” Clyde says, laughing. “They’d be totally stealing Craig and Tweek’s thunder.”

“But they’re not boyfriends!” Tweek says, looking confused.

“Yet,” Jimmy grins. “They’re almost as gay as you two!”

“ _You’re_ gay,” Tweek shoots back.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Clyde says, frowning and looking a little lost.

“Nevermind,” Token says with faux sympathy, as if he’s a mother consoling a child. It passes a moment later. He turns his attention on Tweek instead. “Think you’ll manage to button up your dress shirt right?”

“Hey!” Tweek frowns. “Of course I will!”

“Craig will have to be on alert for that,” Token laughs, pulling the other boys minus Tweek in with him.

They all fall silent a moment later when they all make a simultaneous realisation.

“Craig?” Tweek asks softly, concerned. “You okay?”

Craig doesn’t even glance up from where he’s quietly eating his chicken dippers. He shrugs and swallows. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Tweek presses, touching his shoulder. “You’re really quiet.”

It takes all of Craig’s willpower not to shrug him off. His stomach hurts again, churning with discomfort. It’s grown exponentially with knowing that all of his friends are looking at him.

“I’m fine,” he says again. “Just sick of talking about this gay ass prom.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy, but the resulting flinch of his tablemates tell him that’s exactly how it’s come across.

“Uh. Okay, man,” Jimmy says after an awkward pause.

The rest of that lunchtime conversation is stunted, and it’s clear that none of them feel like chatting any more. Craig does his best not to feel guilty for quashing their excitement, and ignore the concerned glances that Tweek keeps shooting him.

 

—

Tweek has work that afternoon, which Craig is thankful for, but his luck runs out the following day.

He waits around by his locker, not having the heart to dump Tweek from their usual walk home together, despite the fact that he thinks he’s developing an ulcer. Goddamn internalising.

It hurts a bit that Tweek looks surprised to see him, but on quick reflection, he can’t really blame him. Part of him is ready to admit that his behaviour is probably doing nothing for Tweek’s anxiety. A bigger part of him is just plain scared though, which fucking sucks.

As expected, the walk home is awkward. Tweek hovers nervously at his side, fidgeting with his bag strap with the hand closest to Craig. For a moment Craig wonders if it’s because he’s used to their fingers being linked together. It makes his heart hammer weirdly in his chest and he has to fight to keep his hand safely in his pocket.

The silence is agonising. It feels like a transparent wall a foot wide between them and Craig knows he’s entirely at fault. This status quo is shit, but it’s still better than nothing.

“Craig?”

Tweek’s voice startles him from his thoughts and suddenly he’s aware that Tweek has stopped walking.

He stands, wide-eyed and chewing at his lip which Craig notes with some regret, he’s started to pull the skin off. The guilt he’s been feeling all day hits him like a storm-force wave, crashing against the swell of protectiveness within him.

What am I doing? He thinks helplessly. I’m so scared of losing this that I’m pushing him away.

“Won’t you please tell me what’s wrong? I know you don’t like talking about how you feel but…” Tweek trails off, shrugging.

“Nothing’s-”

“Don’t give me that shit, man!” Tweek snaps. Craig can’t blame him for growing frustrated. “I want to be here for you, Craig! But if you keep saying nothing… how am I supposed to help?”

At that, Craig sighs softly. He shuffles from foot to foot. He so badly wants to stop feeling like this, but the thought of opening up… the thought of having his answer. It feels final.

“Okay, Tweek… fine. Something’s been bothering me…” he admits, speaking cautiously, with trepidation.

Tweek’s frustrated expression melts away. He nods and takes a slow step forward, as if he’s worried that Craig will flee. “Okay so… what? What’s upsetting you?” He asks softly. In that moment, Tweek’s face is such an open book of concern and genuine care that Craig feels guilt hit him again.

“This…” Craig turns away slightly, nudging a loose stone with his boot. “This prom… thing,” he says.

“Prom..?” Tweek frowns. “What…? What about the _prom_ could possibly bother you?” He sounds genuinely surprised and confused. Craig meets his eyes and sees that he’s frowning. As if the prom was the last thing he thought Craig would be worrying about.

“I… Urgh. Jesus, Tweek. You’re going to think I’m lame,” Craig complains.

“I think you’re lame for worrying me and keeping things that bother you a secret,” Tweek points out.

Craig grits his teeth and kicks the stone forcefully away from himself, feeling unjustifiably angry. “ _Fine_. I can’t think of a way to ask you if you want to go with me, and I’m worried that you’ll say no. Happy?” He challenges, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment.

Whatever reaction Craig was expecting doesn’t come to fruition. Instead Tweek stares at him, same frown of confusion on his face. He looks for all the world like he’s trying to solve a complicated maths problem in his head.

After a few moments, Tweek’s frown deepens rather than eases. “Wait a second— Are we _not_ going to the prom together?” He asks, bewildered.

Craig doesn’t quite know what to make of his question. “Uh I mean. I’m not saying that we’re not. I just hadn’t asked you yet and I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes or… you know. I don’t want to assume,” he finishes lamely.

Tweek’s stare softens a fraction, although he still looks a bit mystified. “I didn’t think either of us _needed_ to ask, Craig. I mean. I guess I assumed too?”

“You didn’t?” Craig asks, his turn to be surprised.

“Well… no? You’re my boyfriend. Who else would I go with?” Tweek blinks, his expression changing to something between vulnerable and hurt. Craig instantly discovers that he doesn’t like that expression on Tweek. “Do you not want to go with me?” He asks, nervously suddenly, pinching his shirt between his forefinger and thumb unconsciously.

“No!” Craig says at an alarming pitch. He clears his throat and tells himself to calm the fuck down. “No. I absolutely want to go with you.”

Tweek relaxes minutely, but still carries that unpleasant expression. “Then I don’t understand. I assumed that neither of us even needed to ask, and you say you want to go with me, but you’ve been worrying me this entire time because you… wanted to ask me?”

Craig lets out a frustrated growl from somewhere in his throat. God. When Tweek put it that way, it sounded fucking stupid. Jesus. It’s really time to reveal the elephant isn’t it? Oh God. Why is this so hard?

To his credit, Tweek waits patiently as Craig argues with himself for a few moments, managing to look constipated the entire time.

Finally, Craig nods a minute nod and sucks in a breath, clenching his hands into fists.

“About… assumptions- God I am so bad at this…” he sighs.

“Craig… stop trying to make sense of things, okay? I’m listening so just talk. We can make sense of it after,” Tweek says, voice soft.

The words make Craig’s heart do that stupid flip-flop. In that moment, Craig realises that if this keeps up, one day his like-like is going to turn into love. And he’s kind of okay with that.

“Okay, fine. We never-” he breaks of. Takes a breath. Tries again. “We never made it official. One minute you were in my backyard suggesting we go out again to make everyone happy, and the next thing you were taking my hand and I just… we never made it official. I don’t know if you… see this as real or pretend,” he finishes. His voice carries less strength at the end, and he tries not to feel ashamed of how weak he sounds.

Tweek watches him intently as he speaks, and it isn’t until the very end that he looks surprised.

“Craig…” He says, pausing to pick his next words.

Craig isn’t sure he wants to hear them, so he blunders on in a shocking display of cringe. “I mean. It’s not like it doesn’t feel real. At least to me, which is why I never said anything. But you know, we’ve got middle school coming and things change and if you’ve been pretending, that's fine! I just don’t wanna hold you back.”

Tweek is silent for a few moments, mouth pressed in a thin line. For the briefest moment, he looks pissed of. The moment passes though and he settles on something softer. “Craig…” He says, gentle. “You’re remembering what I said to you that day wrong. I asked you if you wanted to get back together. I didn’t say it was for the sake of anyone else?”

Craig blinks. “You didn’t?”

“No. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I’m pretty sure I told you about how you made me feel good about myself and I wanted to do that for you. I never said anything about doing it for someone else.” Tweek jitters on the spot slightly. It’s a big tell that he’s full of anxious energy. His eyes narrow slightly, fixing on Craig. “More importantly, you think I’ve been faking for the last almost two years?”

“No,” Craig jumps. “Well… maybe? I don’t know. I never thought you were faking so much as… playing the part.”

Tweek’s mouth drops open into a little ‘o’ “I… well I guess at the start I looked up how boyfriends are supposed to act. But only because I was new to it. That doesn’t mean that it isn’t real, Craig. I stopped trying to act any way but myself long ago.”

Craig has the grace to look bashful. “Actually… I did the same thing at the start.” Definitely not a cool thing to admit, but he’s glad that Tweek Googled it too. He wonders if he found the Wikihow (with pictures).

“I can’t believe you thought I was acting,” Tweek folds his arms, looking hurt. “I’m not even a good actor.”

Craig feels bad then. _Really_ bad. So bad that he doesn’t think it’s worth correcting Tweek’s incorrect assessment of his acting skills.

“I thought you might be acting. _Might_ ,” Craig says instead.

“Well I’m not,” Tweek replies, looking annoyed. “Are you?”

“Tweek,” Craig replies, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Relief. Relief like a cool rain on a sticky summer day. Oh god. He sounds like Mr. Tweak. Gross. “You’ve seen my acting skills,” he says instead.

Although he’s clearly still a bit ticked off, Tweek laughs at that. “Okay… that’s fair.” Once he stops laughing, he huffs. Craig fancies that he’s probably annoyed with himself for forgiving Craig so quickly. “I’m not about to say that we’re official from now. Just because you’re a dick, it doesn’t mean that I’m changing my mind on when we started properly going out.”

“That’s fine,” Craig agrees. He can’t describe how much better he feels. It’s like a weight is gone off his chest, and he can breathe again. Cautiously, he slides a hand from his pocket and offers it to Tweek, trying not to look too hopeful.

Tweek takes it, but surprises Craig a second later when he uses it to tug Craig towards him. As Craig takes a step, Tweek takes a step too and before Craig can really compute what’s happening, a kiss lands on his lips.

It’s little more than a rough smudge of lips, but it’s warm, and nice, and a little bit wet and when Tweek pulls back sporting a face so red he looks like he’ll faint, Craig can’t help but feel like it’s the best moment of his life.

“I wouldn’t act… that,” Tweek says in a small voice, looking anywhere but Craig.

Craig feels too elated to care that he’s wearing a ridiculous grin that probably makes him look like a dork. “Tweek, will you go to the prom with me?”

Tweek scowls at him, still blushing as he starts to walk, fingers interlinked with Craig’s. “As if you needed to ask, dick.”

“And… will you stay my boyfriend in middle school?” Craig asks, a little more hesitantly.

Tweek’s scowl deepens and he tugs on Craig’s hand firmly in retaliation. “ _Middle school_? You’d better mean high school!”

“College?” Craig smirks.

“More like it,” Tweek nods, satisfied. “Yes, Craig. I will. Asshole.”

“Thank you, honey,” Craig croons.

Tweek rolls his eyes, but Craig can see that he’s pleased. He’s not sure if Tweek can possibly be as giddy as he is though. It’s an overcast day, but Craig swears that the sun has come out somewhere.

“We should find some therapy kids to beat the shit out of,” he observes after they make their way to Tweek Bros. Coffee in comfortable silence.

Tweek laughs. “I’m gonna miss Mr. Mackey.”

Craig nods. He’s going to miss a lot of things about elementary school, but luckily for him, Tweek won’t be one of them.

 

— Addendum—

The prom goes (mostly) without a hitch. If you discount the ambulances and the SWAT team. Kenny dies too, but that’s not that unusual.

Luckily for Craig and Tweek, they'd quickly decided that the entire thing was lame and had headed back to Craig’s after forty minutes.

Craig’s parents found them later the night sprawled out on Craig’s bedroom floor, tuxedo jackets on over their pyjamas, open-mouthed and snoring as the TV flickered with Red Racer re-runs.

They hold the photos as blackmail over Craig to this day.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m actually English. The US school system is an absolute mystery to me. Thank u google.


End file.
